Oath Breaker Part 1 by Kris Kramer
Chapter 2
The feast that night proved to be an important event in retrospect, because that's where I met not only many of the players in this little adventure, but several who would prove to vex me for years to come. Hafnard had been a busy man, hiring five other mercenary captains besides myself, and all were invited to dine with the lord and his court. Only the captains were expected, but I'd insisted on Saras joining us, and being a son of the Lord of Raven's Crest, an exception was made for him. So after depositing our men at the tavern in Thorn – it wouldn't have been prudent to have them bunk with real warriors – the two of us returned to the palace to eat fresh boar's meat, bread, cheese, fruits, and nuts and to drink some of the weakest ale I've ever known.
The least important man in this tale, at least for now, was the impressively tall, white-haired old Dralasian priest named Strom. Dralasians worshipped dragons, and Strom was of sufficient enough rank that he lorded over all the other priests that hovered around Brecon like hungry gnats. They all wore bright red robes that made them stand out starkly in crowds, although Strom's was lined with a gold trim, and he wore expensive jewelry, all with images or shapes of dragons. I never thought much of religion in my life, but in my younger years I'd always had a small fascination with the Dralasians. What kind of warrior didn't want to worship a dragon? But I soon soured on that idea, as did my relationship with the Dralasians. In a most dramatic fashion too, although that's yet another story. Regardless, Strom and his priests had their claws deep into Lord Brecon, but fortunately, they were rarely around when he wasn't, so my interactions with them were limited.
Seated to Brecon's right was the elf, Aravon, the leader of Brecon's household guard. I had no idea at the time how an elf had come to be the captain of a human lord's soldiers. That's probably why he intrigued me. I knew very few elves who'd managed to ingratiate themselves into the lives of humans, primarily because most elves thought of humans as little more than talking dogs. It made me wonder whether this one had actually decided to go against the grain of his people and mingle with the lesser folk, or if he'd just been outcast for one reason or another. As the night passed, however, and I saw his quiet, aloof demeanor, I suspected the latter.
The other, more important reason he caught my attention was that I'd heard him described during the conversation that night as the greatest swordsman in Aberweyn, and probably far beyond. He was a legendary champion in this part of the world, and that only served to stoke my competitive fire. I already didn't like him for being an elf, but to hear him praised so lavishly made it sting doubly so. But I've always enjoyed proving everyone wrong. I didn't know how I would do that here, seeing as how we were allies in the coming fight, but I knew I could measure up to him. I'd killed a hundred men by then and that was no fluke. I could certainly handle a silly little elf with his toy blade.
Hafnard was there too, along with his servant, Rufus. Hafnard sat near the end of the main table, several seats down from Lord Brecon. Normally, a man such as Hafnard would chafe at being placed so far away from his Lord, but I suspect Hafnard wasn't upset with his seat. He seemed to me the kind of man who preferred to watch rather than be seen, to lurk in the background while everyone else made their own moves, striking from the shadows when the time was right, and time would prove that notion correct. Unfortunately, I didn't know that then. Rufus, however, just seemed to buzz about the room with more energy than he knew what to do with. There was no place for him to sit, so he just worked his way up and down the four long feast tables arrayed in the hall that night, talking to anyone who would listen. I don't even know what about, since I ignored him when he came by my seat.
Next, of course, were the Lord's three daughters, Melinna, Meranna, and Mirelle. Mirelle was the youngest, barely eleven I think, and about as annoyingly chatty a girl as I've ever met. I didn't speak to her that night, but she found me and Saras the next day and wanted to talk about our time in Raven's Crest. Stories of other lands fascinated her, having never left Aberweyn herself, but she talked so much that neither of us could get a word in edgewise. So I just walked away during one of her soliloquies and let Saras entertain her instead.
The middle sister, Meranna, was as fat as Mirelle was chatty, and she seemed to have inherited a few of her father's less appealing physical traits, including her short legs and stubby hands. If you could look past the heft she carried, I suppose she could be considered pretty, but what handsome young man could look past that? She'd been married off at fifteen, but her husband died a year ago so she'd returned home, an eighteen-year-old widow. I couldn't help but notice that she watched me for long stretches that night. When our gazes met, I at least had enough courtesy to nod and smile back, but I had no interest in her so I spent much of my time ignoring her stares – which I could constantly see out of the corner of my eye – and staring myself at her beautiful older sister Melinna.
Melinna, twenty one and tall, with long, golden blond hair, was exquisite. She made me wonder what her mother must have looked like, since Melinna had none of her father's traits, at least none visible. There were no rules in this part of the world against women ruling, so since Brecon had no sons, Melinna was being groomed to be the Lady of Aberweyn, and perhaps eventually a Queen if Brecon won his fight. That left her unmarried, and ripe for my picking. I watched her much of that night, but other than a cursory glance and nod when I and the five other mercenary captains were introduced, she never looked my way again, instead chatting with the two Dralasians sitting on either side of her. I was so busy lusting that I barely even noticed the servant who brought drinks sent by some member of the court, and I didn't even listen to hear who'd sent them. I just nodded my thanks, raised the cup in the general vicinity of the head table, and drank some very mediocre ale.
“At some point, all that staring is just considered rude,” Saras told me after we'd eaten more than our fair share of food.
“Admit it. You're in love with her too.”
Saras nodded, holding his cup in front of his mouth as he talked. “She's beautiful. Certainly the loveliest woman around here.”
“She's a lord's daughter. That's quite the conquest,” I said, mentally figuring her worth against all of the other wealthy and powerful women I'd been with up to that point. “She'd easily be worth double what the Lady Hylfe was.”
“So would her sister,” Saras said, smiling at the thought of Meranna and myself.
“She's a cow.”
“She's been watching you all night.”
“She's a rude cow.”
“She's still a lord's daughter.” Saras pushed his plate away, having picked it clean. “And if anything were to happen to Melinna, she becomes the next Lady-in-waiting of Aberweyn.”
He winked at me, and I became tired of his silly teasing so I changed the subject. “Forget about the women. What of these other men? Do you think they're capable? And when I say capable, I mean are they going to get me killed with their stupidity?”
Saras glanced at the other captains and shrugged.
“They're fighters. They at least look competent, though there's no way to really know until we see what their men are made of.” He started to take a drink, then remembered our deception and stopped. “Which we can't do, because we can't bring any of our men out here to spar or train.”
It was loud in the hall that night, so neither of us bothered to whisper. “One of us should stick around here, just to keep an eye out and see what the others look like.”
Saras rolled his eyes at me. “I think you mean that you should stick around while I take our slaves out into the forest and teach them how not to die. Because we both know that's what will happen anyway.”
“Right. You're better at that. I'm better at this.” I leaned back in my chair. “Besides, I'm not eager to throw my lot in with men who I can't trust to watch my back in a battle.”
“Like our men?”
“That's your problem to fix now.” I smiled and patted him on the shoulder, then leaned bac